When the Duke left, I barely had time to catch my breath before I bolted toward the library. My heart pounded as if trying to escape the confines of my chest.
I needed answers—ways, however desperate and absurd, to forcefully unlock the memories of Madeleine. It might seem laughable at first; after all, Madeleine's soul had long since departed from its once-vibrant vessel, and I had inherited what remained—a curse, a legacy, an unwilling charge. And yet, in the depths of my despair and frustration, I resolved that even if it were a fool's errand, I must try.
In my frantic state, my mind raced through every rumor and legend. Hypnosis, I knew, was not practiced in our world—not in the sanctioned methods of healing or divination—and yet I clung to the hope that there might exist a power user of exceptional ability, someone who could, like the seers who predict the future, peer into the obscured past.
